


Tomorrow your eyes, they will light up the sun

by Oscarjames



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Emotionally Repressed Arthur, Fluff, Grieving Arthur, but implied that more will happen, merlin likes Arthur but nothing really goes that way, scruffy pendragon, soft friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oscarjames/pseuds/Oscarjames
Summary: Uther has recently died and Arthur is finding grieving and becoming king difficult, luckily his manservant and friend is there to help him.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	Tomorrow your eyes, they will light up the sun

On the first night Merlin told Arthur that he didn’t want him to feel he was alone and that is what he continues to stand by. Uther has died and Arthur, still raw with grief is king of Camelot. He’s struggling and broken, the death of his father trapping him with sadness and guilt, but, his role as king and years of being told emotions should be hidden are preventing him from truly being able to feel. The young Pendragon, who in all the time Merlin has known him, in fact for his whole life, has maintained an appearance of refinement and sophistication, now looks dishevelled in long, shaggy hair and unkept stubble. 

Every morning, Merlin, as he always has done, enters Arthur’s chambers to deliver breakfast and begin his duties. Every morning since Uther’s death, Arthur has already been awake, sitting at his desk, dressed. Merlin doesn’t know if he’s sleeping at all. The dark circles under his eyes, red from tears, tell a story that Merlin wishes to not be true. He’s losing weight, bones more prominent through his skin, and face much thinner.

“‘Morning,” Merlin says tentatively, upon entering the room.

Once again, Arthur is seated at his desk, one hand writing, the other holding up his head. He looks more exhausted than the day before. The pale light of just after dawn seeps through the curtains behind him, illuminating the back of his head, creating the illusion that, once again, his hair is golden. Instead, it is a pale brown now, the length and lack of time outside darkening it. His cheeks and jaw are shadowed by a light smattering of messy stubble. Merlin still thinks he’s beautiful.

Arthur doesn’t move when Merlin speaks, he tends not to, the outside world seems to be too much for the new king with so much inside, Merlin understands, and places the food down beside him, before beginning to tidy the chambers.

“I’ll open the curtains, sire, let some light in, what do you think?”

Arthur forms a half nod but hardly reacts. Merlin pulls the curtains apart. He pauses to look out the window, just a short few years ago, this view stunned him, it was unlike anything he’d ever seen, hundreds of time bigger and more complex than Ealdor, now it’s home and the view he tends to appreciate more is that of his friend. No, absolutely not, he will not be that cheesy, it’s bad enough that he likes Arthur.

One hour later, after Merlin has sorted Arthur’s clothes, cleaned the floor and made the bed, and not a bite of the breakfast has been eaten, Arthur speaks, his voice rough, “I did mean it, Merlin, that night,” He pauses to look up at his friend and clasps his hands in front of himself, “You truly are loyal, more so perhaps than anyone, and you are a _good friend_.”

“Thank you.” Merlin quickly turns back to polishing Arthur’s armour, wishing to hide the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes. They are, of course, tears of joy and love, for the fact that he is Arthur’s friend and that the latter is willing to admit it, but also sadness at his pain, and that Merlin can’t help. It’s visible in the way his eyes seem still and the angle of eyebrows and audible in his voice, in his vulnerability and coarseness. Merlin just wants Arthur to know that it will be okay, that he knows it will, because it is destiny and fate, it is the future. He turns back to see Arthur, still looking at him, an unsure expression on his face. “It’s going to be alright, I promise, I know it will. You will make it through this and become the best king that the Five Kingdoms have ever or will ever know.”

Arthur chuckles slightly, “Where did you get all this wisdom from?”

“Oh, I found it outside, by the stables, I could get some for you if you like...”

Arthur smiles and it’s as if a small fire is lit in Merlin’s chest, warmth and hope ignited, as he sees the real Arthur show itself. The Arthur that Merlin knows, the strong, stubborn, bantering, witty, smiling, determined Arthur. Although Merlin knows that he will never truly be back entirely, and perhaps that’s good, as that Arthur hid behind walls he built up, he can see the Arthur that will become the once and future king begin to form behind his eyes. Merlin will gladly wait until he’s ready. 

“I’m going to go muck out the stables.”

When Merlin walks in that evening to bring dinner, he pauses in the doorway. Arthur is sitting on the edge of his bed, slouched over, eyes red, with tears dropping from them periodically. Merlin briefly feels the small ache in his stomach that comes with the panic of seeing someone crying and not knowing what to do. He softly places the plate onto the table as he walks over. Arthur looks up and attempts to wipe his face with his sleeve. Merlin sits beside him and places a hand on Arthur’s back.

“You’re allowed to cry.”

“My Father does-didn’t think so.” He replies shakily. “And if he didn’t think so I shouldn’t cry for him.”

“You’re allowed to cry, _even_ if it’s for your dad and he thought there was something wrong with it.”

Arthur leans slightly towards Merlin, resting his head on Merlin’s ribs. They remain in silence for a moment, Merlin’s Hans moving slowly back and forth, drawing small circles on Arthur’s back.

Suddenly he chuckles, albeit tearfully, “I’m supposed to be _king_ , and here I am relying on my _manservant_.” He pauses and when Merlin doesn’t say anything starts to speak again. “I suppose you’re my friend too.”

Merlin nods as Arthur looks up at him, his blue eyes visible through strands of his growing hair. He smiles softly and, somehow, despite the stubble, he looks childlike. His eyes gradually close and falls down so his head rests on Merlin’s lap. Merlin reaches down and lifts Arthur’s legs, placing them onto the bed, hopeful it will provide him with more comfort, then moves his hair out of his sleeping eyes, before lying back himself and drifting away. 

At dawn when the sunlight finds its way through the windows, still uncovered by curtains and Merlin begins to open his eyes, Arthur remains asleep. This is the first time he has slept in weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?


End file.
